The rain began as a thin, biting mist, turning the forest floor into a sludge that clung to their boots like lead. Elian and Sarah stripped the armored truck of everything useful, thermal blankets, spare power cells, and a hardened data-pad that contained the tactical layout of the surrounding regions. They left the wreck behind, abandoning the heavy vehicle to the fog. They could not afford to be tracked by sound, and the truck was now nothing more than a funeral pyre for Vane’s failed squad.
"Sector 8 is a long way off," Sarah said, her voice barely audible over the rising wind. She checked the display on the salvaged data-pad. "It’s over the Iron Ridge peak. The terrain is a nightmare, narrow passes and sheer drops. If we go the direct route, we’re exposed. If we go through the tunnels
